They link hands as they continue the hike, and Nick has the startling realization that for as long as he’s lived here, he’s never explored the landscape quite like this.
“So…you won’t be my professor for much longer,” she says, and the subtext lingers between them.
Now that she’s brought it up, he’s almost scared to ask what happens next. For so long it’s been this distant, too-bright hope, this mythical time when their relationship wouldn’t have to be a secret.
“Ramona.” He swallows hard. “What are we doing here, exactly? Now that the quarter’s almost over?”
She releases her hand from his, toeing a line in the dirt. “We’re…having fun. Aren’t we?” The sun has set but her Ray-Bans are still on, and he wishes he could see her face. “I haven’t had anything serious. Not for a long time.”
The words settle like ice in his chest.
“You don’t want something serious.” At least, that’s his interpretation of it. Maybe she said she was obsessed with him in his bed that first time, but that could have been the heat of the moment.
“Do you?”
He could tell her the truth: that it already feels serious. But he doesn’t want the intensity of his feelings to spook her, even if the alternative kills him. “I—I don’t know,” he lies. “I just like being around you. That’s all I want to do.”
She goes quiet for a long moment. He’s not sure if she was expecting a different answer. If he disappointed her, somehow.
“Then—okay,” she finally says. “I don’t see why we can’t keep doing that.”
When they reach the summit, they take a seat on a large flat rock while Nick tries to assure himself that this is fine. Urges himself not to prod for more information. What was he expecting—for her to suddenly go all in on her first relationship postretirement, when so many other parts of her life have dramatically changed?
“I can’t believe it’s still this warm in December,” Ramona says with a sigh, shoving up the sleeves of her fleece. “Just once, I’d like to have a white Christmas. Or a white Hanukkah—I’ll take either.”
“I didn’t know you were Jewish.” It feels like a small revelation that there’s still so much basic information to learn about her. He craves every piece of it.
“On my dad’s side,” she says. “I’m not religious, but we’d do both holidays when I was a kid.”
Nick can’t believe he’s saying it until the words are out of his mouth. “Come to my family’s cabin,” he says. “Mammoth Lakes. We go every year for Christmas. It’s a five-hour drive, but it’s completely isolated and relaxing, and there’s snow.” When she doesn’t respond right away, he adds: “It wouldn’t have to be serious. It could just be…fun.”
“I couldn’t,” she says, pushing up her sunglasses, and the longing on her face makes him exhale with relief that he hasn’t overstepped. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“You wouldn’t be. Between my aunts and uncles and cousins, there’s always at least one new face each year. There’s already an invite out to Gary at Jets-R-Us.”
She bites down hard on her lower lip, the telltale sign of her holding in a laugh. “Well, if Gary’s going…”
“And there are some snowy hikes we could do. A real wood-burning fireplace,” he says. “I’ve already been wondering how I’m going to make it through that week without you.”
He almost has to shut his eyes as he’s picturing it—it’s too nice, Ramona crossing over from one part of his life into another. Watching the snow fall. Sipping mugs of spiced apple cider. Waking up with her every morning, falling asleep with her tucked against him every night.
Is it serious, if those visions make a sudden pain flare right beneath his ribs?
“You really want me there?”
The sight of her, shy and self-conscious, turns the flare into a full-on ache.
“Ramona,” he says with his arms around her waist. He can’t believe he wasted so much time calling herWilder—he loves saying her name. “Do you even need to ask?”
He does want her there, but suddenly he’s not sure which version of her. The student he’s casually sleeping with, the one he can’t tell anyone else about?
Or the girlfriend, the one whose hand he wants to hold in public?
She leans in and kisses him, a whisperedokayinto the skin of his neck, so tender that he can almost pretend he doesn’t care which version he gets—as long as she’s there.
26
The day of her psychologyfinal, Ramona isready.
